


Weakness

by livixbobbiex



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Cas destroys a field, Grace Kink, I dont even know I got carried away, Love Confessions, M/M, Top Castiel, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:50:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livixbobbiex/pseuds/livixbobbiex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean asks Castiel about his wings. </p><p>He was not expecting the mating display or the property damage. </p><p>Written for the Destiel Forever fanfic challenge prompt #51</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weakness

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a prompt fic for the amazing Facebook group Destiel Forever 
> 
> "#51 first time Dean sees Cas' wings for real. Bonus please have Cas all coy and peacocky, ruffling, fluffing out and showing off his wings to Dean"

Cas appeared with a frown plastered across his face. That in itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, Cas had a habit of randomly showing up at the bunker, usually to bring attention to something supernatural going on, and Dean could count the amount of times he’d seen the guy smile on one hand.

“I dislike the Illiad,” he declared (hence the unusualness).

“Okay?” Dean had been reading some boring book of lore on his bed, which he closed and set down. He’d only picked it up because Sam had pulled bitchface number twenty four and told him he was being ‘unhelpful’.

Cas took it as a sign to continue. “Why would the Trojans so easily trust the Greeks after ten years of war? I know the gods helped to scare them but-“

“Cas,” Dean interrupted, “it’s just a story. It’s not meant to be realistic.”

“That’s not the worst part. Achilles is shot in the heel by an arrow and he _dies._ ”

It was too late for this. Dean stood up. “Did you seriously come here to bitch about a book?”

Cas looked down. “You used the phrase ‘Achilles heel’ a few nights ago which I didn’t understand so I went to the library and the woman was very helpful and gave me this book,” he gestured, “but I still don’t understand.”

“I don’t think it’s meant to be literal, it’s probably just some shitty symbolism.”

Cas scrunched up his face slightly. “Meaning what?”

Dean sighed. “I don’t know! Pride or something. Achilles heel just means someone’s biggest weakness.”

The angel tilted his head. “But humans aren’t killed by an arrow to the heel.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t always mean physical weakness I guess. Why does it matter?”

“I could spend years on Earth and humanity would still confuse me. I suppose humans have many points where they would be harmed in an instant.”

Dean couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Same for angels?”

Cas met his eyes. “Unless you used an angel blade, no, but,” he paused, “long before the human race came about it was understood that our wings were untouchable.”

He thought about it for a moment. “Your wings?”

If Dean wasn’t mistaken, he could have sworn that Cas blushed slightly. “Before we were warriors, we used to preen each other’s wings fondly in the fields of Heaven. When our wings are in that state with our guards down, we’re very vulnerable.”

“You know,” he started, “I’ve never actually seen your wings.”

Cas pulled one of his uncomfortable faces, the type that made him look like he was about to faint. “I- in that barn when we first met, I showed you a shadow of my battle wings.”

“You have battle wings?” Dean felt like a little kid asking annoying questions, but it felt like the most Cas had ever told him about angels in one go.

The angel still flinched away. “We can sharpen our wings and use them as a weapon or to assert dominance or threat. The softer state was our natural way before Lucifer’s rebellion.”

“So they’re like your voice? They’d burn me?”

Cas stared at the floor. “Not exactly. Our wings are like a physical manifestation of our grace. You would see them in their true form more like... surges of energy.” He stopped talking for a moment. “I could manifest them as they would be seen in Heaven.”

Dean suddenly felt nervous. “Cas, you don’t have to do anything just because-“

Cas didn’t let Dean finish, his eyes were already glowing blue. He all but shoved Dean back onto the bed. Turning his back, Cas removed his trench coat from his shoulders. Next came the tie, which was tossed half way across the room. A small voice inside of Dean was yelling that it would be great if Cas turned around for the strip show. Dean ignored the voice, but he was so stunned he probably wouldn’t have been able to speak much anyway.

The shirt was peeled off Cas’ shoulders slowly, exposing a bare yet surprisingly muscular back. He was almost statue like, not even breathing. Cas probably didn’t need to breathe anyway, Dean just assumed he did to blend in with everyone else or it was easier than using grace to maintain his vessel.

Somewhere, through all the walls of the bunker, Dean heard a clap of thunder. The lights in his room flickered before eventually going out all together. Wind like a hurricane blasted around the four walls, knocking everything in its path. A blinding light burst out from the centre of Cas’ shoulder blades, yet Dean couldn’t bring himself to force his eyes shut. Instead, he blinked, and then forgot how to breathe. He suddenly felt so _small_.

Cas raised his wings in an entirely graceful movement, until the highest of the feathers touched the ceiling. They were terrifying, like a thousand shiny black blades. The longest of the feathers on both sides moved in small twists. All of a sudden Cas made a sort of rolling motion with his body and wings, kind of like he was dancing the worm vertically. It was almost like a shiver as his feathers rippled. Simulateously, Cas lowered his wings, which were changing colour from jet black. If Dean had to describe them, he’d call them mostly a charcoal grey. They were the same deep black in the longest feathers closet to his head, but as they came in the faded and the tips were almost pure white. There were a few blue feathers in there too, just dotted around randomly.

The colourful, softer feathers began to ripple in gentle waves. Cas raised the wings and dropped them again, and then began to flap them in a smooth yet powerful motion. They spread (which was difficult considering they were long enough to very nearly hit both walls) so Dean could see the centre of his shoulder blades, and then bent slightly again.

Finally Cas turned around, and the front of him was just as stunning as the back. The wings framed him, still about half raised. He seemed to be in a trance, his eyes shining blue with grace. Dean, too, was out of it, he barely even noticed Cas straddle his lap. There were feathers _everywhere_. One of the longer ones swept up his body and ran almost seductively across his lips. All too soon, the angel above him stopped in a fixed position, feathers raised above his head. Had than been a... goddamn mating display or whatever? 

Dean was definitely in a trance, because the word “beautiful” escaped his lips. “They’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

That seemed to snap Cas out of it. “You really think so?” He beamed, flapping his wings like a dog might wag its tail.

“Cas?” Dean swallowed, his body was having an entirely inappropriate reaction.

He removed himself from Dean’s lap immediately. “I apologise Dean. I have never shown my wings in this way before. I did not anticipate that I would-” his eyes had dimmed to their normal shade of blue as his wings locked up into their tough state.

Dean had to ask, before he lost his nerve. “Can I touch them?”

Cas remained frozen, but nodded. “You have to be careful, never go against them.”

He understood and went for one of the exterior feathers. He was right, they were like swords. It felt just like metal, cold against his fingers, and when Dean put a little pressure on them they barely moved. It would take an idiot to attack an angel. Dean could see it then, how easily Cas could use his wings like one deadly blade. Cas watched him very closely until he removed his hand.

“What about when they’re soft?”

Again, Cas locked up. “You have to understand that to an angel it means-“

“Cas, I would trust you with my life. I have trusted you with my life. I understand if you don’t want me to- I shouldn’t have asked.”

The feathers changed without another word, just an inch away from the tip of Dean’s forefinger. He reached cautiously, almost afraid. Like this, his wings looked so breakable. His finger brushed the same feather he’d been touching before and Cas shuddered. It was the softest thing he’d ever felt, better than velvet or silk or whipped cream. Dean could barely resist the urge to dig his fingers into the feathers and rake his way down. He stuck with one, feeling his way around carefully. Without Cas’ objection, he worked his way up to resting his whole hand on the wing. It felt incredible, almost divine.

Dean didn’t know what possessed him, but he stepped around the wing to face Cas’ back and moved on to stroking those. Two hands that time, smoothing their way from top to bottom. Cas definitely shivered then, pushing back into Dean’s touch. Self control out the window, Dean raked his fingers through the whole wings. It was like holding lighting.

Cas full on hissed and abruptly folded his wings up. Dean couldn’t say a word to object (even if he’d wanted to) as the angel slammed him back against the wall, effectively pinning him against it. He let go, but Dean discovered he couldn’t actually move, and was bound by little waves of blue.

“ _Don’t_ do that if you don’t understand what it means.”

Dean’s eyes ran up and down Cas’ half unclothed body, lingering at some exquisite hip bones. He was beyond caring, apparently, about men and women and straightness damn it. All he wanted was his hands in those wings again. The feeling of them had been purely addictive. He noticed the more than obvious bulge in Cas’ slacks.

“I wanted to.”

Cas breathed in and out heavily, obviously conflicted. “Preening an angel’s wings in that way is a symbol of... deep trust and affection.”

“Cas-“

“Extreme devotion.”

Dean felt dizzy all of a sudden. He had the perfect opportunity to say everything he’d been wanting to say for years but never found the courage to. “I-“ _good start, don’t stop there._ “Cas I-“ _don’t mess this up, Winchester._ “I need you.” _God fucking damn it. So close._

Apparently it was enough, though, because suddenly his mouth was forced open and he had six feet of angel pressed right up against him. Cas kissed him like it was the last time, like hell itself had opened and this was the last time they’d see each other before getting sucked in. Dean still couldn’t move his arms, but it didn’t matter. All he could so was stand there and feel. It was like an all out attack on his senses. The wings beat strongly of their own accord, messing Dean’s room up even more.

“ _Dean_ ,” he said, though Dean realised it was more of a groan. “We can’t.” His stomach dropped, his heart shrank. He hadn’t anticipated how much it would suck to lose this, after just one small taste. “Not here,” Cas continued. “Too small.”

And then they were standing in a field in the middle of nowhere. Cas’ wings could stretch out completely, practically shimmering in the moonlight, like they were reflecting the stars. Dean felt so tiny and insignificant, and this wasn’t even the full extent of Cas’ true form. The thought wasn’t enough to stop him from reaching out again, rolling a feather in between his fingers. Cas full on cried out, and Dean realised just how much he’d been holding out before.

It was awkward with the giant wings, but Dean managed to get his left arm under one, resting it just in the centre where both wings met. The other arm went to cup Cas’ face. He stroked his thumb slowly up and down the small space of skin, rubbing up against the joint. The noise Cas made could only be described as a hoarse scream as he wrapped the wings around Dean’s body like a cocoon. The force of such a fast action knocked them both off their feet, though the feathers cushioned him.

Cas didn’t waste any time, he easily slid his legs in-between Dean’s (he may had parted his own without really thinking about it), slotting their groins together. Even through the layers of clothes, there was a delicious friction as Cas pushed his body back up to reclaim Dean’s mouth. He couldn’t help but grind into the feeling, hands fisted in the wings like a handle, chasing the heat that filed his lower body.

“ _Say it again_ ,” Cas asked, voice dripping even deeper than usual with arousal.    

“I need you, Cas,” Dean stared directly into his eyes. “Always needed you.”

The noise that came out of Cas’ mouth should have been illegal. Dean felt a chill race over his body, and realised that he was completely naked. The coldness from the air was immediately replaced with the searing heat from Cas’ own body. Their dicks were suddenly in direct contact and if Dean had ever had any reservations about this happening, they were completely out of the window. He felt like he was downing.

It was surprising that Cas was even half coherent. “Do you trust me?” He stroked a hand down Dean’s chest, putting pressure on a nipple.

“Fuck yes,” Dean all but growled.

In one swift and fluid movement, Cas had Dean’s legs resting on his shoulders. Deep inside Dean’s ass, he felt a weird but not uncomfortable pulsing sensation. He let his eyes fall closed, losing himself in the sensation. _Grace_. Then everything was so hot and full and right and he barely even noticed that he had a whole dick all the way in and _oh god._

Cas was apparently content to just lie there, only rocking in tiny movements whilst he licked at Dean’s neck.

“Move,” Dean groaned, “move you asshole.” He gripped his handful of feathers extra tightly.

“Stop touching my wings,” Cas said gently, “feels too good.”

Dean let go. “Just _move_.”

Cas did, and Dean wondered why they hadn’t been doing this for years already. The drag of it was agonisingly slow, sending a burn through Dean’s entire body. Without the wings to hold onto, he ended up digging his fingers into the dirt. It was a good call to get out of the bunker, because he couldn’t control his own cries and was pretty sure they were load enough to reach fucking _China_ , let alone Sam _and okay Dean stop thinking about your brother in the middle of sex._

 It wasn’t enough. It was too slow, too gentle. This was maddening. Dean needed fast and hard. He needed a hurricane and thunder. Dean didn’t mean to say any of that out loud, but it was enough for Cas to pull out completely. He wouldn’t admit it on his deathbed, but Dean actually whined at the loss, realising that he hated feeling so empty.

Dean couldn’t find it in him to hesitate before flipping them both over so he was sitting on Cas’ chest. It was probably down to the adrenaline and desperation that was running through Dean’s veins that he managed to line himself up with Cas’ dick perfectly and sink down completely in one go. Holy fuck, he kept his eyes open. Cas looked like he was blissed out, head tossing from side to side in grass with his wings all spread out. They would twitch and flap occasionally, but they didn’t raise more than a few inches from the ground.

He drew his hips up and down cautiously, and when he found it was still the good kind of burn, he fucked himself down at a brutal pace. He leant forwards slightly, putting his hands on Cas’ chest for support. The new angle allowed Cas’ dick to brush that spot inside of him. The fire in Dean’s stomach was uncontrollable and he knew the telltale signs that he would explode any second.

Apparently Cas felt the same, because he sat up suddenly, wrapping his arms and wings around Dean like they were falling. Cas thrust up himself into Dean’s body more brutally than Dean had managed before.

“Please,” he mumbled against Dean’s ear, “can I really feel you?”

Dean was beyond replying coherently, but Cas seemed to get it. His hands grabbed at Cas’ feathers and he felt this electricity rush through his body. It was just a tingle at first, but within a second it had taken him over. The world was black and they were _flying_ , he was filled with promises and devotion and pleasure. It was so overwhelming, in fact, that Dean barely even noticed his own orgasm. By the time he had the energy to force his eyes open, Cas had pulled out and was snuggling him. Dean _didn’t_ cuddle, it was a rule of his, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not with the feathers affectionately brushing against his cheek.

(The only reason they found to actually move was the following morning when about twenty local news crews had come to investigate the massive, smoking crater that had appeared in the middle of the night.)

(Dean wasn’t complaining about the dirt, it was just an excuse to take an _extra_ long shower.)

 


End file.
